


The Hand You're Dealt

by Nomader



Series: Partners [1]
Category: Laramie (TV)
Genre: First Meetings, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-12
Updated: 2018-08-12
Packaged: 2019-06-26 14:33:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15665130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nomader/pseuds/Nomader
Summary: Desires, assumptions and past experiences make Jess Harper uncertain how to play his cards in his first encounter with Slim Sherman. Filling in some gaps and exploring the nuances of ‘Stage Stop’.





	The Hand You're Dealt

**The Hand You’re Dealt**

Nomader

 

**Foreword**

This is an m/m story, as indicated in the Archive Warnings. If it is not how you think about _Laramie,_ please don’t read it: I would like you to enjoy your view of the show and not get upset. This is for those whose imagination swings the other way. It is strictly about fictional characters and is not intended to reflect on the original actors.

 

* * *

 

“Stay right where you are!” The words were accompanied by the distinctive click of a rifle bolt.

The voice, strong and resonant and laced with a little anger, sent shivers up Jess Harper’s spine which had nothing whatsoever to do with the fact that the speaker was pointing a gun at him.

Squinting out under the hat which was tipped over his face, he could see, from where he was lying propped up against a fallen tree, a pair of boots to his left. The boots were spaced wide apart. Above them, long legs, braced and taut, led his gaze upwards. Long legs, clad in extremely well fitting pants, led his eye up – and up – and - … Jess reached the point at which he sincerely wished he could clap the hat currently on his head over another part of his anatomy which needed the shelter a great deal more.

_\- Stop right there! -_ he admonished himself severely. He was thinking with extreme rapidity as well as extreme difficulty in resisting the temptation looming above him. He had a distinct instinct, however, that his instant reaction, should it be spotted by the tall man, would certainly not be appreciated. He had to get up – or rather, get to his feet – and quickly!

But the voice was issuing instructions again. Not the instructions Jess would love to hear, like “ _Don’t move, I’m joining you down there_!”. The tall guy had got it only partially right as he ordered instead: “Keep your hands where they are. Don’t move.”

At least he was looking at Jess’s hands, which meant his gaze was focused somewhere around the recumbent young man’s hat. Jess hastily stretched his arms even further behind his head.

“Just stay right where you are,” the voice went on, sending another shiver down Jess’s spine.

– _What’s the point when you’re up there?_ – he thought of remarking but, rash though his usual responses often were, he thought the better of this one.

“What are you doing here?”

 - _Apart from hoping you ain’t gonna look any lower? Or maybe wishin’ y’ darn’d well would?_ -  Jess tried to take stern control of his unruly thoughts, not to mention desires, and responded with another part of the truth.

“Gettin’ a crick in my back.” 

\- _And I can suggest lots of better ways of gettin’ backache –_ he thought, but only added: “Let me know when I can get up.”

“Give me your gun. Take it slow.”

\- _Oh now y’ really pushin’ it!_ – Jess was starting to get annoyed, with himself for letting himself be jumped like this and with the other man for not noticing what kind of gun he was asking for.

 – _Yeah, y’ definitely askin’ for it! –_ and once again there were a good many other experiences Jess Harper would recommend indulging in with him, other than trying to take his gun off him.

Nonetheless, he schooled himself to politely hand it over – for the moment!

“Alright, you can get up now.”

\- _If I get any further up, I ain’t gonna be able t’move in these pants! -_ Jess pushed his hat back and rolled smartly over and onto his feet in one lithe movement. He ran his eyes appreciatively over the man confronting him. – _Just like I thought. Temptation on two legs! -_

Broad shoulders. Strong arm muscles. Flat stomach. Slim hips. Taut, powerful legs, accustomed to many days gripping the saddle. Blond hair. Clear light blue eyes.  Jess was done for. But, fortunately, before he could reveal so much as a hint of his feelings, he was subjected to another inquisition.

“Where’re you going?”

“West.”  - _Maybe! -_

“There’s a road going west.”

“With ruts a foot deep and he don’t like it.” In a bid to distract attention from himself, Jess gestured towards his horse.

The blond mercifully diverted his glare to the animal. “Looks like he’s had a long hard ride.”

Irritated though he was by the implication that he did not look after his horse, Jess was only too willing to keep Temptation’s focus there.

“Any law against that?” His tone and his grin were cocky in the extreme, for at least half of him wanted to needle the man into a fight, while the other half was focused on getting his gun back – pronto!

“Well, that depends.” The man was still considering Jess’s bay with almost all of his attention. He appeared to be turning over in his mind whether Jess was a horse-thief! But it was not enough for Jess to risk jumping him, much though he’d like to take down and pin down such a provokingly hard body.

Instead Jess opted for non-physical goading. “That’s a Texas brand. Wanna see the bill of sale?”  All the time the man was looking at the horse, he was not looking at Jess nor at the totally inappropriate level of Jess’s reaction to this encounter with him.

“All I want to see is your dust.” – _That’s your loss, y’ don’t know what y’ missin’! –_ “Heading either way you want to go, but on that road. This is private property.”

\- _Ugh-oh! A property owner! A man who seriously puts a few thousand acres of untamed scrubby range above a bit of fun and probably above his personal relationships –_

In this judgement, Jess was almost entirely wrong, although it took some time for him to realise it. As it was, he decided to cut his losses _– Just quit playin’ this hand and shuffle the deck again. -_ for there was no possibility of getting on to the right foot (or any other part of his anatomy) with this man now, however attractive the prospect might be, so Jess was just going to have to exercise some of the iron self-discipline of which he was capable.

He gave Temptation-on-two-legs another cocky grin as he pulled on his jacket, determined to keep the man alert and focused on external circumstances. “I’ll be glad to oblige you. I had three or four swallows out of your private stream,” – he directed the stern scrutiny away from where they were standing to the inflow to the lake some distance away – “and my horse helped himself too. So you just figure out what I owe you and I’ll be on my way.”

Fortunately Jess had his back to the man as he unhitched his mount, Traveller, and hopped aboard. But he really didn’t need the blond watching him too closely as he settled into the saddle - _Not unless things are goin’ to get interestin’ real quick_ – so he waved a hand at the sky.

“Oh, and I looked at a bird flying over. Will there be a charge for that too?” – _Anything to keep the man’s attention_ _above saddle level!_ -

“If you owned this spread, you’d be leery of strangers too. It’s the only water this side of Laramie and it happens to be on my property.”

Jess’s libido heaved thwarted sigh. The man was the absolute epitome of an upright, honest, God-fearing, property conscious Yankee, and probably a puritan into the bargain. There was no hope, and anyway, even if he did happen to receive a shred of encouragement, he could not afford to stop here. – _Got a dirty deal to play out and a friendship t’ end. Nothing else ain’t urgent!_ -

At this point, since his mind was regretfully made up, Jess had no hesitation in showing the blond Yankee what a mistake he was making. The man seemed to think he would simply move along without his gun when he was told to like a good little boy. While the tone of confident command did interesting, though inconvenient, things to Jess’s groin, he was not prepared to let anyone think they could get away with disarming him. Come to that, he wasn’t at all sure why he had given up his gun so easily in the first place. Unless it was his frustration substituting for another kind of surrender?

\- _Whatever the hell! I sure ain’t goin’ anywhere without it!_ -

The moment the man dropped his eyes – tellingly! – to the earth, when he claimed it as his land, Jess used the split second of inattention to grab the rifle.  A combined pull on the barrel and a kick to the man’s chest put Jess totally in control of the situation.  In a way it was too easy. He could hardly believe anyone would be so naïve around a stranger and one packing a gun the like of which Jess was carrying. But the Yankee did not seem to be conversant with the subtleties of the way a gun could be honed to kill a man.

– _The more fool him!_ – Jess was by no means averse to exploring much closer interaction with this tempting specimen, but he was not going to make any allowances for the obvious natural trust this man had in other people, which, despite his territorial protectiveness, made him so easy going that he did not calculate the odds for his own safety: in which case, he had everything coming! Including Jess taking easy possession of the property owner’s own weapon.

“Now give me my gun  … Easy … And yours.”

Their roles now fully reversed, Jess was able to look down at the Yankee and subject him to an interrogation in exchange. After all, there was a faint chance he might have some useful information.

“How often d’you get into Laramie?”

The blond seemed puzzled by this line of inquiry, but responded grudgingly: “Every week or so.”

“Anybody there by the name of Pete Morgan?”  - _Please let there be quick end to this trail, not to mention some repayment in both money and revenge! –_ It was not to be.

“Not that I know of.”

_\- Well, maybe the property owner ain’t friendly with anyone, if he’s always drivin’ them all off his land_. - Jess was not going to give up easily, however.

“D’you ever hear of him?”

“Nope.”

\- _Uncooperative or what? –_ Jess’s desire to fling himself out of the saddle, take the man down and engage in teaching him a lesson or two, was reaching epic proportions. But he did not have the time, whatever his inclinations.

And now he was lumbered with the man’s rifle and his gun. Although it served him right, Jess was not the kind to leave someone defenceless, even though the rancher presumably could not be far from his own home and had a horse to ride into the bargain. He’d have to dump the weapons before he got on his way entirely, chuck them away somewhere nice and awkward, preferably in some prickly scrub! – _Make the high and mighty_ _Yankee grovel somewhere unpleasant on his precious land in the heat of the day! -_

With such a thought, Jess’s sense of the ridiculous came into play once more – and there was a lot about this encounter which was bordering on the ridiculous! Besides, he could not deny that, crazy and irritating though this meeting had been, he regretted it would not lead to something more. – _Trouble, probably! Because this handsome rancher sure is full of his rights an’ his dignity. But then some trouble’s definitely worth it! -_

As he urged Traveller into motion, he looked down with another mischievous grin and couldn’t resist mocking the one who was watching him: “Well, stay out of those woods or you’ll be in trouble. I saw a jack rabbit in there and he looked real mean!”

And with that he urged Traveller into a lope, leaving the blond man standing, as he had requested, in a cloud of Jess’s dust!

*** * * * * * ***

Not long after his rapid departure from the lake, Jess halted Traveller on a ridge above the main road. Just below was a small spread – a little ranch house, barn, corral and a few outbuildings. An old man was grooming a horse at the corral rail. A kid was soaping harness. The sound of their voices floated up to Jess, although he could not distinguish the exact words. The kid sounded pretty irritable and discontented. There was something about the old man’s tones as he replied which suggested a wry sense of humour and a lot of affection for the boy.

The place was on the road, and, ten to one, riders would stop to water their horses and seek refreshment for themselves, so if Pete had passed this way, they’d almost certainly know. There was of course some risk that it was the very ranch whose owner he had just disarmed and mocked, in which case he’d be in trouble again. – _But hell! When had Jess Harper ever avoided trouble?_ – Anyway, it looked peaceful enough but not so much that Jess did not marry determination with caution. He turned his horse away and skirted round the hillside to the rear of the spread before regaining the road, in order to appear as if he had been travelling east instead of west; he was not going to reveal his true purpose or destination to anyone, however harmless.

The pair in the corral were so preoccupied with their dispute that they did not notice his approach at all. Jess’s lip curled in disapproval of such a slack state of watchfulness. – _That was how y’ ended up gettin’ ambushed or worse! –_ He was just in time to catch some information which suggested all was not happy families on this particular ranch.

“You’d better thank your lucky stars you’ve got a brother like -”

“Mornin’.”

They both jumped at Jess’s greeting, but recovered enough to respond civilly. He was right about the old man’s sense of humour and soon found himself falling for some verbal dexterity over who visited the ranch.

 “This here ranch is a relay station for the Great Central Overland Mail,” the old man told him with a sly grin, as he pointed to the family name, ‘Sherman’, painted up on the barn.

It didn’t mean much to Jess. – _Just another place to ask questions, if the old man’ll quit trippin’ me up! Of course anyone travellin’ by stage would pass through it. But Pete Morgan ain’t gonna be travellin’ by stage -  much too confined and conspicuous. Better show the photograph just in case. It’s sheer luck the pair of us were around when that newspaper man was tryin’ out his new camera … -_

The picture was a fair likeness, right down to Pete’s rather surly expression. He hadn’t been happy about that photograph and it was a good job he didn’t know Jess had a copy of it! The horse the old man had been brushing didn’t like it much either. Of course, it had to go and rear up, the rope dangling right in front of it, in dire danger of getting entangled in its thrashing forelegs. And that would probably bring it down, with a good chance of injury to both horse and anyone trying to disentangle it.

 - _Why the devil wasn’t it tied up properly_?  - Jess’s irritation rose again. - _These people seemed to be mighty careless! Or maybe the big brother they’d been talkin’ about did all the thinking for them?_ –

As these thoughts were passing through his head, Jess vaulted over the rail and approached the horse. It was dangerous to grab the rope, since this meant he was directly in front of those flailing hooves. Once he had laid hands on it, he moved quickly to the side, murmuring reassuring nonsense to the horse as he did so. He’d often found his voice, low and rumbling as it was, seemed to sooth nervous animals and sometimes even humans. The horse’s co-operation in calming down was the first positive reaction he’d encountered from the inhabitants of Wyoming, where it seemed he’d been getting reared up at ever since he hit the border.

His reward for dealing with the situation was positive too, when the kid urged him to stay: “I can rustle you up a good hot meal.”

The old man obviously didn’t approve and Jess was willing to bet he was the trail-cook who’d be doing the actual providing of the offered meal. He probably wouldn’t approve of Jess’s thoughts, had he been able to read them, either.

\- _A hot meal, cooked by somebody else? Jess Harper was no more likely to turn that down than he was a hot bed-partner! –_

With a severe reprimand to himself to stop thinking about the blond rancher, Jess hauled his attention back to the present situation. The kid obviously had an unusual rapport with animals and Jess was amused by the boy’s enthusiasm, even though he personally thought wild things should be left in the wild. He himself was adept at evading attempts to domesticate him. But he was genuinely intrigued and surprised to hear how the youngster, who was called Andy, had acquired, cared for and trained his collection. Andy’s enjoyment was infectious and he was openly friendly, despite his guardian’s disapproval.

It was a shame therefore that Jess, jolted out of a sleep he had never intended to take after a good meal at the ranch house table, ended up drawing on him. It was also a good job some instinct held him back and he hadn’t actually pressed the trigger, or he would be facing a charge of murdering a minor. – _Careless!_ _Shouldna let y’self doze off!_ \- But it was so long since he had felt welcome anywhere. So long since he had been able to relax _,_ even for a few brief moments.

This made it all the more difficult to answer Andy’s innocent questions about life on the drift. The bullet hole in Jess’s jacket was reminder enough of why he had drawn so quickly when someone came up behind him. He could out-gun most people he met and had spent too long honing his speed and accuracy to have any respect for those who missed. He knew all too well, as he told Andy: “Close don’t count.”

“How old were you when you first went out on your own?”

\- _Ain’t no way I’m gonna to revisit those days willingly! Still less recall them to a kid with such a sheltered background he don’t even notice a horseman ridin’ up behind him or bother tyin’ up a horse properly … –_

“Can’t hardly remember a time when I wasn’t on my own.” A soft touch and cosy company was not what kept a drifting gunman alive, however good it was to be well fed and relatively safe for a while.

Andy was nothing if not persistent. “D’you like it better alone?”

“It just worked out that way.” – _Yeah, it worked out that way when there was no family, no friends left alive … -_

The youngster’s brow was furrowed with what was obviously deep thought. “Suppose you had a real friend. Someone who liked you a lot. Do anything for you.”

There was a pause.

\- _Clear blue eyes and blond hair and an honest, level gaze and a strong right arm_ …   _some dream!_ -

It seemed Andy had been on the verge of offering his own friendship, but at the last minute he hesitated and concluded: “Well, what I mean is, don’t you get lonely sometimes?”

“You get used to it.” – _Hell yeah! Y’ got used to it. But that ain’t hangin’ no sign sayin’ y’ wanted to! –_

But he was moved, deeply touched, by Andy’s sincere and unconditional acceptance and friendliness towards him.

***********

That was why he ended up humouring the kid’s burning desire to escape from the routine of the relay station and so abandoned his original intention of leaving as soon as he’d eaten. And also why he decided to illustrate that life on the road was not all a matter of fun and freedom. Unfortunately he chose to do this by showing Andy how easy it was to lose at cards. It seemed harmless enough at the time – just useful, practical knowledge. Jess never cheated unless he knew others were doing so first, but he’d seen plenty of men lose their shirt, not to mention all their worldly goods and then some, getting hornswoggled in a friendly game.

Andy, of course, was wide-eyed at the ease with which Jess could control the dealing. “Man, I’ve never seen such luck!”

Jess was at pains to point out it wasn’t luck at all.  “You want win at poker, y’d better learn how it’s done.” – _Honestly, the kid’s naïve a way y’ never were, even at that age. But at that age … ain’t even gonna start thinkin’ about that age! Someone’s brought this kid up to expect honesty and trust … –_ Things Jess longed passionately for himself. Things so often denied him.

At which point, with consummate irony, the front door opened.

Two men came in.

Andy sprang to his feet.

One of them was the old cook.

The other was  - _Damn it, Lady Luck’s been dealin’ off the bottom ever since Pete slugged me and took m’last cent! –_ the blond rancher.

Andy was beaming all over his face. “Slim, meet Jess Harper.”

\- _Slim? What the hell kinda name’s that? This guy’s muscled like a prize fighter, tall, broad-shoulders, wide chest … as if the picture of his body ain’t been permanently burnt into y’ imagination! –_

“I’ve already had the pleasure.” The tone could not be colder if they’d suddenly all been transported to the wastes of Alaska!

\- _No, actually, y’ haven’t, but I’m willin’ –_ Jess didn’t bother to move. He was pretty sure he’d already outstayed the welcome which had meant so much to him and he’d get his marching orders soon enough.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Andy turned to him in surprise, looking a little hurt as well.

“How did I know you were brothers?” Jess was mentally kicking himself now. – _God knows y’ deserve everything y’ gonna get and no way will it be what y’ want! Y’ had a hunch this ranch house must belong to the land y’ were trespassin’ on – why the hell not act on it? Why’s fate dealt a hand y’ can’t play, however much y’ want to win the game? And why can’t the game stop now and start again, on better terms and with real understanding? -_ But life on the drift had taught Jess Harper there were no second chances. He’d already bust a flush on this one.

Meanwhile, Andy was firmly resisting any encouragement to adopt his big brother’s attitude or follow his orders to make himself scarce. “I got company, Slim!”

The kid’s tone was proud and firm and just a shade surprised, as if this was not the way they usually behaved to travellers. He had good manners and was prepared to stick to them. It said something for his upbringing – and, as there was no sign of any parents about the place, the angry blond must have brought him up, so he couldn’t really be stiff-necked and unapproachable all the time. – _Guess I just ain’t his type! -_

It looked like a total stand-off. Jess was wondering how he could light out without hurting Andy and giving … Slim … the satisfaction of throwing him off the ranch a second time, when the old cook spoke up, unexpectedly, to defuse the situation: “The stage’ll be here in ten minutes, let’s go fix up.” He steered his companion firmly through a door and presumably into a bedroom.

Andy looked at Jess with relief in his eyes. Jess picked up the cards and began automatically to shuffle them, the action calming in its familiarity, giving him time to think. Half of him wanted to bust into the bedroom and sort out the bossy elder brother once and for all, preferably with a good punch or two. The other half knew full well the old man, Jonesy, had saved his ass from a kicking, always supposing this … Slim Sherman … could get near it. _\- And it sure was a pity that was the only reason he’d be wantin’ to! –_

“Will you excuse me a minute, Jess?” Andy’s polite voice broke into his thoughts. “There’s things I need to check in the barn.”

“Sure, Andy,” Jess smiled. There was a stage due, apparently, and the kid probably had duties to perform. He continued to shuffle the cards gently. His conscience was troubling him that he had such ambivalent feelings towards Slim Sherman, especially alongside the genuine regard and affection he had already developed for Andy, even on such short acquaintance. If he was brutally honest with himself, his affection wasn’t just on account of the hospitality, either _. - Andy was just the same age as … -_

Jess shook his head and mentally chided himself, for he was not sure exactly what he was feeling or what he should do to get the best outcome out of this whole mess. He knew he should probably leave right now, while the going was good, but something or someone kept him rooted to his chair. He was unable to decide what or, more likely, who. Which was not like him at all!

The front door opened abruptly and Andy hurried through, not even pausing but going straight into the bedroom. There was a murmur of conversation, then raised voices, which Jess tried hard to ignore. Seconds later Andy slammed out again, yelling: “I don’t know, I just did!”

_\- What the hell’s happened now? How’s that pig-headed elder brother managed to rile the kid so much in a few short sentences? –_

Jess was wishing ruefully he had made an exit long before now. His presence was only exacerbating the conflict between Andy’s need for freedom and his brother’s need to control everything and everyone. _-Well, there’s some forms of control he could use on me without me objectin’. Hell! This is gonna have t’ stop! -_

It did indeed stop rather more immediately than Jess had anticipated. The bedroom door burst open again and Sherman was on him before he had a chance to so much as drop the cards. A hand slammed into his arm, shoving him sideways as his gun was grabbed from the holster. The brush of strong fingers against his thigh did not compensate for the fury welling up in him as Sherman snarled: “I’ll keep the gun this time.”

_\- The hell you will! -_ Quite apart from it being his tool of trade and costing plenty, Jess was infuriated by this man’s assumption that he was so easy to disarm. He’d jumped to his feet in an instant, but had to admit Sherman was fast. – _And hell-bent on throwin’ me out! -_

“Slim!” Andy’s cry of protest passed almost unnoticed by the two angry young men.

“Your company’s leaving, Andy, and you’re staying!”

This statement halted Jess in his retributive tracks. He suddenly realised the seriousness of Andy’s longing to escape and the way their conversation had stirred it up to breaking point.

“Is that why you went in there, to tell him you were goin’ with me?” he demanded.

Andy shook his head dumbly.

“He put two and two together, added 8 dollars and a solid gold watch, and that the answer he come up with!” The old cook sounded almost amused at the way things were turning out, but Jess was in no mood to take it lightly any more.

“And he never comes up with the wrong answer, does he?”

“Not this time, he didn’t.” The light blue eyes were cold with contempt and dislike.

“I say y’ did.” Jess’s bright blue eyes blazed with fury.

Their gaze locked and they glared at each other. In that moment Jess was conscious not just of his regrettable tendency to refuse to back down, but also what that long look might have meant if they had not started out at loggerheads. He scarcely heard Andy’s supporting declaration: “So do I!” Jess just kept looking unwaveringly at Sherman. His never very controllable temper was fast coming to the boil and he barely took in the accusations about lying or Jonesy’s attempt to divert Andy with the prospect of a trip to Laramie.

 “I thought you had more sense. How long d’you think it would be before he ran out on you – with your money and your watch?” was the final demand.

Jess scarcely glanced at the eager young boy. His whole attention was focused on his irate elder brother. He let his anger override his other feelings as he told Sherman straight to his face: “He’s talkin’ me into takin’ you along.”

“You get out of here. Go on, get!”

\- _What the hell’s the man think I am, a stray dog? –_ But the personal insult was nothing compared with the threat Jess perceived in Sherman’s tone. He leapt to Andy’s defence as swiftly as he would if the threatened violence materialised.

“So you can start beatin’ up on him?” Jess had had far too much experience of heavy-handed discipline to let this bright young spirit get the independence thrashed out of him.

The accusation was obviously too much for Slim Sherman. He lunged forward and grabbed Jess by the neck, pushing him hard so he staggered back against the wall. The touch was like a lightning bolt up Jess’s spine, but he still flung his fists up ready to fight. - _If this is finally how we’re gonna get to grips with each other, so be it! -_

“Stay right where y’ are!”

The voice from the doorway froze them both in mid-punch. A momentary regret flicked through Jess’s mind because now he was not going to get up close and personal with the man who’d been tempting him the whole morning, but it was quickly pushed out by the knowledge that they were all in deep trouble.

For the voice continued: “I’m Bud Carlin. I don’t like to trouble y’ but me an’ my friends are hungry. What’s for dinner?”

***********  

_Carlin!_ Jess knew the man by reputation and it was not a reputation to be messed with. And the grotesque humour of Carlin’s personality was something which could only be appreciated when it was experienced first hand.

As they stood in a line while Carlin mocked and joked his way through his devious plan, Jess was vividly aware of how, against all the odds, this common enemy had drawn the four of them together. His admiration for the verbal dexterity of the old cook increased in bounds as Jonesy neatly stimied Carlin’s questions about the stage without ever losing his dry humour or his imperturbable calm. Even more important, Jess felt a sudden rapport with Slim: they were both focusing on the same possibilities for turning the tables on Carlin and more than once their eyes met in a swift but united exchange.  Andy too rose to the occasion, and in Jess’s esteem, as he stepped into the breach when Jess was, of course, unable to give any information about stage-line timetables. The boy had initiative too, although his hope they could grab the rifles in the barn was seriously misplaced. Jess knew that, even if they were loaded and could be safely seized, he and a boy would be outnumbered and leave Slim and Jonesy exposed and helpless, quite apart from the danger to Andy himself. It was worth getting in the kid’s bad books if it saved the inhabitants of the Sherman Relay Station from a summary bullet each.

It hit Jess in the guts to leave Andy outside to deal with the stage team, but once again he could not see a way of out-smarting Carlin: the man had a plan and it was a plan which had given him all the advantages thus far. So it was necessary for Jess to keep a fierce rein on his volatile temper and refrain from his fervent desire to jump Carlin and beat the sneering joviality off his face for good. Jess could be pretty reckless on his own account, but in cases like this his experience had taught him that needless heroics could end in needless death for others – and still fail to thwart Carlin.

_\- Sure is hard, though! –_

Carlin’s sneer became even more pronounced once he had fooled Judge Wilkins into leaving the stage. He proceeded ruthlessly to humiliate the representative of the law. The gang leader obviously considered himself to be the Joker in the pack and was confident he held all the aces. Jess could feel the tension reverberating through the tall man standing so close to him. He wished momentarily the tension arose from much more pleasurable sources, but it was just a fleeting thought, generated by the strong eye contact between himself and Slim as the judge was brought into the ranch-house. They were both of one mind, but equally they both lacked any opportunity to change the situation in their favour.

The judge himself was staunch in his defence of the law, even at the cost of his own life: “If you kill me, there’ll be other judges. You can’t kill them all.” As this courageous declaration rang out, Jess felt intuitively how it resonated with Slim Sherman:  he too was a man who would never relinquish his dedication to justice. Jess Harper, on the other hand, had been on the wrong side of more than one corrupt interpretation of the law, but he could recognise honest integrity when he saw it – and he saw it in Slim Sherman. They were one in the utter revulsion Carlin’s casual cruelty provoked.

Moments later Jess saw Slim’s compassion in action, as he leapt to help the judge, who had been dashed to the ground right at their feet. Just when it seemed things could not get any worse for the judge, Carlin, not content with merely taking the man’s coat, added another twist to his perverse amusement.

“Only one thing wrong. Dirty boots. Shine ‘em!” 

Jess sneaked look at Slim. – _Surely there must be a way to stop this! -_ A moment later, Slim looked back at Jess. Determination and support flashed between them. Jess was shaken by the depth of mutual understanding of what really mattered which somehow, despite all that had gone before, they shared now. It was as if they were playing a single hand together and, even if they hadn’t been dealt a royal flush, they still meant to win. Only moments later this resolve exploded into action.

Carlin was milking the situation for every cruel jibe he could extract from it. “Remind me to give you a good tip, y’ honour!”

As the laughter of the gang leader and his sidekick filled the room, Jess and Slim darted quick glances at both men. The next moment, Slim launched himself into a tackle, knocking Carlin to the floor. But although he was more than a match for his opponent when it came to a fight, Slim’s triumph was short-lived. Before Jess could let loose his fury and join in, the other outlaw hefted his rifle. He clubbed Slim, a passing blow, but enough to stun him momentarily and make him release his hold on Carlin.

Far from deterring the gang leader, Slim’s attack appeared to give him more ideas: “Let’s have some fun while we wait.”

The other man hauled Slim up, twisting his arm painfully behind his back. “Hit ‘im, Bud!”

“You know me, Clint, I like to watch.”

\- _What the hell was Carlin up to now? –_ Jess risked a look at Slim, then let his attention drop to floor as if he was intimidated. It was vital to conceal from Carlin that, even without words and sheerly by their shared opposition, they were planning to act somehow together.

“You were squarin’ up with old Slim here.” Jess risk another brief eye contact with Slim and saw only courage and determination.  Carlin ordered: “Take it up where y’ left off.”

“We were just horsin’ around,” Jess said quickly.

“Horse around some more!” Carlin moved back towards the window, the better to see the ‘entertainment’ he had staged.

Jess and Slim faced each other, eye to eye.

“Now I wanna see a good right to the jaw. All y’ might.”

Slim looked across at Carlin, then drew a breath and steeled himself; he seemed to appreciate Jess was capable of hurting him. His next look over his shoulder took in where Clint was standing, estimating the likelihood of interference from that quarter. Then he looked directly at Jess, both challenge and a certain trust in his eyes. “Well, go ahead. Hit me.”

Jess had never been more loathe to strike a blow. If he was to fight Slim, it was going to be on their own terms for their own reasons. The intense blue of Jess’s eyes flickered for a moment because his long lashes dropped over them a couple of times as if cutting off his thoughts. His mind was already made up: he certainly wasn’t going to do any damage with his punches, if he could get away with it.

Now, when they squared up to each other, Jess was totally focused on Slim. As if they were engaged in a leisurely dance, his fist swung just slowly enough to let Slim fake his response to the blow. They did not get away with it.

“I said all your might. I’ll give you one more chance. You’ve got one more second.”

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Slim’s eyebrows clenched and a furrow between them marred the smooth skin of his forehead.

This time Jess’s blow carried more power, though much short of what he could have put into it if they had really had a reason to fight. But he was still not prepared to give Slim a thrashing just to satisfy Carlin’s warped sense of humour.

The punch apparently sent Slim stumbling backwards, but once again their ruse failed.

“Y’ rolled with the punch!” Carlin observed as he hauled Slim back for further punishment. “This time I want y’ to stand right there and take it. If y’ don’t –“ His gun pointed unwaveringly at Jonesy, “Paul Revere bites the dust.”

Jess gritted his teeth and he saw a similar resolution sweep sternly across Slim’s face. They could not risk Jonesy’s life. In almost the same instant, Clint announced the stage was ready to leave and Andy was coming back inside. – _No way’s Andy gonna see his brother gettin’ beaten up by me when the kid called me his friend! -_

“You’ve got three seconds.” Carlin started counting.

“Hit me!”

“Harder than last time or it don’t count.”

“Hit me!”

Jess readied every muscle in anticipation and licked his lips. – _This one’s gonna have t’ be for real! –_

Having no alternative, his eyes sought Slim’s, hoping the man could read in them Jess’s reluctance to strike and that it had nothing to do with the conflict between them.

Jess hit Slim. The power-packed blow sent the bigger man sprawling, knocking him out more surely than any rifle blow had.  Immediately Jess turned on Carlin. But it was too late. Clint slugged Jess hard, knocking him to the floor.

Nonetheless, though his jaw was aching, his ears were still working fine and caught the hint let fall by the outlaw left on guard. Not only was the man indiscrete, but he seemed to have no idea how to deal with his prisoners and didn’t even bother to tie them up before he made off for his rendezvous with the rest of the gang.

Slim was already starting to stir and Jess wondered briefly whether he had really knocked the Yankee out or if the other man had just decided to act as if it were so. Andy had rushed straight to his brother and as soon as they were unguarded, Jonesy and Jess followed.

Jess took a firm grip on Slim’s right arm, feeling the muscles warm, hard and flexible under his fingers. He had intended to help him to his feet, but Slim was somewhat hampered by all the attention. Jess allowed himself to let his hand rest on a broad shoulder instead. He watched Slim’s face intently, while the man himself was totally preoccupied with Andy and his reactions. But not for long. A few seconds later, Slim shifted so that he could look up at Jess, look him in the eyes again.

“Thanks for missing my nose!” Slim said with a slight smile.

\- _Ain’t in a hurry t’ spoil y’ good looks, that’s for sure! -_

Jonesy disappeared into the bedroom for some reason, leaving Jess and Andy crouching beside Slim in case he needed propping up. He was not the only one who had suffered. Although the judge’s injuries were to his integrity and his dignity, they were painful as any blow or bullet wound. Jess felt for him.

“Acceptin’ what has to be, your Honour, ain’t bein’ a coward.” Jess Harper could be reckless in the extreme and had a fine disregard for the odds when he was in a fight, but he had somehow also learnt the hard lesson that there are situations where biding your time and accepting a passive role pays more in the end.

Slim seemed to approve of Jess’s judgement, because he patted him gently on the knee. And Jess was intensely aware that Slim’s warm, firm hand did not fall away but remained still resting on Jess’s thigh.

\- _Stop thinkin’ about it! He ain’t got any idea what he’s doin’! Hell, his brains are probably still scrambled from y’ last punch_! –

Jonesy reappeared at this point with a bottle of whiskey for Slim and a reprimand about medicinal use only. Slim needed both hands to take it. Jess wasn’t sure if he wanted to snarl with frustration or growl with arousal. Especially as, once Slim had had a good swig of whiskey, his hand returned to the same place as if he had not noticed who or what he was holding on to.

\- _He’s dazed. And he’s drinkin’! Cut it out! -_

In a bid to get free from this intimate engagement – _no matter how much y’ wanna push it further -_ Jess gripped Slim’s bicep firmly to help him up. Andy was concerned that his brother could hardly stand up, but he seemed pretty steady to Jess, and full of eagerness to thwart Carlin’s plans.

“We’ve got to get to Laramie before they do. Will you ride with me?” Those clear blue eyes locked with Jess’s once again. They showed no signs of confusion. Jess was just conscious of the fervent appeal and the trust in them.

“You won’t have a chance.” Trying to stop the stage before it reached town could be disastrous. Unless Slim knew some shortcut whereby the ridden horses could outrun those pulling the stage, they would never make it in time to warn the Sherriff and his deputies. Besides, Jess had already been taken for a member of the gang and his return would probably provoke a hail of bullets which he had no desire to meet, still less to lead a totally innocent Slim into it. And whatever Carlin was planning – presumably to spring the prisoner the judge had been sent to try – he would have some cunning plan in place for Laramie, where he would expect to meet most opposition. - _No, it was much better to try to take Carlin by surprise, when he thought he’d succeeded and might let down his guard._ -

Jess had no chance to explain any of this. In pursuit of justice, Slim was almost as impetuous as Jess himself could be. Now he declared his resolve to those closest to him: “I’m going after them!”

Somehow they were all tumbling out into the yard, where the dust from the departure of the guard had hardly settled. Slim was refusing to let Jonesy volunteer to go with him on account of his back. Andy was beside himself with fear for his brother, whose dust shortly joined that of his enemy as he tore away down the road to Laramie.

Jess stared after the rider in acute dismay. He knew he could not stop a man driven by such determinedly held principles and his heart was wrenched by the fear that, before they even had a chance to understand each other, let alone play a hand together, this might be the last he would ever see of Slim.

 – _Y’ don’t know each other! Y’ not even friends! –_ Jess’s brain tried to bring his emotions in line, but in truth he had been utterly drawn to Slim Sherman the very first moment he set eyes on him.

“Please, Jess!” Andy’s voice was almost a wail. “He won’t have a chance alone. Maybe one day you’ll be in a jam –“

“Yeah! And have to get out of it on my own, like I always have.” It was true. He would not be standing here in the dusty yard gazing down the road to Laramie if he had not been well able to extricate himself from dangerous situations.

“You can’t let down a friend, Jess, you just can’t.”

\- _Friend? The word came with too many betrayals. And the last time was packin’ injury and robbery to boot. Retribution’s what y’ came to Laramie for. Not friendship with a brave, honest, and, let’s face it, seriously attractive man, however much y’ might wanna risk such a commitment again. -_

“He’s not my friend!” – _I sure wish he could be, but even then, I ain’t ridin’ into a shower of bullets without thinkin’ it through! There’s gotta be some way to catch up with them when they least expect it. -_

“I thought I was.”

Andy’s admission was the hardest thing of all. If Jess responded to Andy’s friendship, the boy would claim that he should ride with him when he did set out to do what he could. And if he didn’t, Andy might just take off after Slim himself anyway.

Jonesy seemed to be of the same mind as Andy. If Jess wasn’t going with Slim, then he was going to go without his gun. It was infuriating! Just like the failure to keep a look-out and the poorly tied horse, it was another instance where Jess knew far more about survival than the three of them did. For a start they’d overlooked the perfectly good rifle in his saddle holster.

Andy was bitter and vehement in his condemnation of Jess’s refusal to help Slim. He stormed back into the house, slamming the door behind him.

Jess breathed a sigh of relief. Nonetheless, he was careful to keep his stance and actions casual as he gave a negligent shrug, which dismissed Andy’s concerns as mere teenage tantrums. Jess strolled over to where Traveller was still hitched to the corral fence, patiently waiting the next move on the restless itinerary he shared with his rider. Jess felt bad about leaving the dead guard’s body there in the middle of the yard for Jonesy to deal with, but he had no time to help if he was going to meet up with Slim and put a stop to Carlin’s schemes. The judge would just have to roll up his sleeves and do his bit.

Untying the bay, Jess led him over to the gate into the pasture, where Jonesy was ineffectually attempting to catch one of the horses.

“Y’ ain’t gonna catch Slim up now,” Jess remarked conversationally, as he tightened the cinch on Traveller’s saddle. “And tryin’ ain’t gonna help a bad back none, either.”

The old cook turned and gave the drifter a penetrating stare. Then he said, “You goin’?”

Jess nodded.

“Y’ didn’t want Andy taggin’ along,” Jonesy observed shrewdly.

Jess nodded again. “Just give me my gun, Jonesy. I’m feelin’ mighty bare without it.”

The old man smiled and handed it over without hesitation.

“Keep Andy here!” Jess ordered. “I don’t care if y’ have to lock him in the outhouse. Just don’t let him know where I’m goin’! And no chasin’ off after Slim on his own, either!”

“I guess I can do,” Jonesy agreed. “Now get goin’, will y’! Time’s a-wastin’!”

Jess hopped up on to Traveller and turned his mount towards Laramie.

“Jess!”

“Yeah?”

“Good luck! Slim needs all y’ fire-power and y’ backin’ right now. Don’t let him down!”

Jess urged Traveller into a fast lope. As his dust swirled into the air, his words came floating back to Jonesy: “Trust me for that!”

*******

\- _Baxter? –_ The moment Jess had heard the clue to the outlaws’ rendezvous which Carlin had hastily suppressed, his mind had been dealing possibilities like a hand of cards. – _Could be someone they planned meetin’ with, but it didn’t sound that way. Could be the name of someone’s homestead or trappin’ cabin. But Carlin runs a tight gang and he ain’t gonna be relyin’ on anyone local, especially not when his plan’s workin’ out real neat. Hell, it could be a saloon or a whiskey still! –_

But the only realistic possibility was the fleeting glimpse of a sign post somewhere near the cemetery.  Jess smiled grimly as he recalled this most likely location. – _If I get my way, the cemetery’ll be Carlin’s next and final stop! –_

He did not, however, urge Traveller into a flat out gallop, in imitation of the way Slim had left on his mission of justice. Instead, as they forged steadily ahead, he engaged in some mental arithmetic:  – _12 miles to Laramie and at least half the distance to get back to the cemetery. Add some time for whatever Carlin’s up to. He can’t hang about in Laramie, the risk’s too great. A stage with only a few passengers and the horses were fresh. Maybe two and a half hours to get back to Baxter’s Ridge? Should take much longer, but Carlin’ll be pushin’ the team as hard as they can go. Still need to get there ahead of them ‘cos they’ll be lookin’ for a posse behind. –_

Jess thought along his back-trail, recalling the lie of the mountains to the south and west of the road. There were only a couple of ridges between the ford on the main road near the relay station and the trail he was heading for: the quickest way lay uphill, past the lake where all this had started. It was no sweat. Traveller was experienced and sure-footed, well used to making his way across rough country.

It was therefore with a comfortable margin on the two and a half hours he had calculated that Jess found himself a place for a good look-out. He settled down amongst the boulders at the top of a small cliff just above the Baxter’s Ridge trail to wait as patiently as his nature permitted. When he had left Traveller ground-haltered in a conveniently shady clump of trees, Jess had considered whether to take his rifle as well as his gun. But when it came to a gunfight, he was faster by far with the gun, could reload quicker and was almost unerringly accurate. He might need to be, if he was tackling Carlin and his bunch alone because Slim had not arrived.

\- _Sure hope the darn’d fool ain’t got himself killed! The two of us together can take this bunch down. If Slim makes it in time! –_

In answer to his thoughts, there was a rumble of wheels and a rattle of hooves and the stage came into sight over a slight rise in the trail. It ran on down to the bottom of the slope, where it halted briefly to let Carlin, Clint and another man jump down. Then the driver, ‘Frankie’ Jess thought his name was, whipped his team up and tore away down the trail, heading further into the mountains.

\- _Carlin’s orders probably. He won’t want the stage headin’ back to Laramie, that’s for sure. Wonder if Frankie knows how lucky he is to be alive? –_

When he looked the other way, in the direction of Laramie, a mighty grin split Jess’s face.

\- _Thank the good Lord! He made it! Maybe my luck’s changin’ for the better after all. –_

A rangy chestnut horse galloped down the trail, heading straight for the outlaws who were racing towards their horses. But Clint turned at the sound of approaching hooves and took aim on the horseman before the man could raise his rifle. A shot rang out and Clint fell. Jess would have heaved a sigh of relief that he had prevented Slim riding straight into a bullet, but there was no time, for the shot had revealed his presence to their enemies. He was kept busy pinning them down with a steady fusillade of shots which had Carlin and his men scurrying for the shelter of the fallen rocks at the bottom of the cliff.

Slim made swiftly for cover too. He looked up at the cliff and grinned in recognition.  Jess looked down with an answering grin of combined relief and appreciation.

From his own cover, there was not much Jess could do except pick off the occasional shot when someone ventured out of the shelter of the cliff; the angle was wrong and they were mostly hidden by the overhang. Nonetheless, he filled the gaps which Slim alone could not cover. Jess’s eyes glinted with approval at the rancher’s obvious skill with the rifle. Combined with Jess’s own prowess with the hand gun, it made them a formidable pair.

The overhanging cliff proved to be a problem in more ways than one. If Jess had not been automatically alert to his surroundings, even while sighting on the men below, he would have been shot in the back by the one who had used the cliff cover to sneak up on him from behind. As it was, his swift reflexes brought down the other man with a single shot.

\- _Pete Morgan! Tryin’ to shoot me in the back, are y’? –_ Jess towered above the fallen man, his face hard and his mind even harder. – _That’s typical of your kind!_ _Slim Sherman’s got far less reason to like or trust me, but I’d place my bets he’d have my back … even if it ain’t the way I really want. –_

The outlaw was equally surprised to find he had been shot by his former partner and did not hesitate to play heavily for sympathy on his injury and their sometime friendship. He was out of luck.

“I was hurt bad too, Pete, and it wasn’t just the money.” Now that Jess had finally met someone of real integrity, who obviously operated on a basis of trust, he felt even more keenly Pete’s callous betrayal of him.

“I didn’t take it, Jess, I swear I didn’t.” 

Pete might or might not be telling the truth, but he was certainly trying to distract Jess so he could go for his fallen gun. He should have known better.

\- _Y’ never were a match for me on the draw, Pete. Y’ shoulda remembered that. –_ Jess stood looking down to where the dead man had toppled over the cliff. Grief and disgust in equal measures swamped his heart and mind for a moment. But rapid gunfire continued below and he was not going to be caught twice by the same sneaking trick. He turned away and slipped and slid down the cliff to join the man who, without even actually being a friend, was a far better example of one.

He arrived just in time to dispatch another of the gang, leaving Slim free to tackle Carlin. And tackle Carlin he did! In the end the bold gang leader was reduced to scrambling on his hands and knees amongst the rocks until he was caught and hauled to his feet by six foot three (or thereabouts) of enraged Yankee rancher. A grin of pure glee was on Jess’s face as he watched Slim serve up to Carlin everything the man deserved.

Slim Sherman had definitely lost his temper: “You like to watch, huh? Well watch this!” The blow sent Carlin reeling and, on the whole, Slim was doing a pretty good job of forcing him to swallow his own medicine. All the same, Jess felt he ought to make a contribution.

He surveyed Slim’s technique with mock-criticism: “Hey, all your might … that was better … now let’s see it real good and,” he admonished the battered gang leader, “this time don’t roll with the punch.”

“Get up!”  Once more Slim hauled Carlin to his unwilling feet and delivered a final knock-out punch.

“That was just fine.” Jess might be imitating Carlin but at the same time he was noting that Slim Sherman was a very useful man to have on your side in a fight. – _And like I thought, together the two of us handled the whole gang just fine too! –_

The subsequent arrival of a full scale posse seemed something of an over-reaction, since the Sherman and Harper team had successfully disposed of or captured the entire bunch of outlaws. But, as Jess remarked: “That saves us the trouble of takin’ this crow-bait to town.”

As they felt the tension of the fight drain away, Slim obviously recalled suddenly the events which had led to it and the safety of those he’d left behind. Alarmed, he turned to Jess. “Hey, where’s Andy. Is he here?”

“No and he don’t know I am. You’d better get back soon. He’ll be worryin’.”

Naturally Slim wanted to know how the man he thought wouldn’t ride with him had actually ended up getting there first. Jess explained the clue he’d over heard and couldn’t resist adding with a reminiscent smirk: “I came the short way. I had to cut across your private property again. I’m sorry about that.”

Slim’s laugh was just a little bit sheepish. “Well, I won’t charge you this time.”

Time seemed to stand still. The rapport between them was so totally different from the start of the day that Jess felt as if he’d fallen asleep and was dreaming. – _Or maybe I just woke up and reality is better than any dreamin? –_

They were still looking each other right in the eye and neither of them saw anything but appreciation and trust. Yet the words didn’t come.

Jess finally broke the pause. “Well, I guess I’ll be riding on. Tell Andy – tell him I’ll drop by some time when his feather-down grows out.” – _No question, gonna miss the kid. Miss watchin’ him grow up into that beard. -_

“Ride back through Laramie, I’ll buy you a drink.” Slim looked hopeful, eager even.

His readiness to be friends stung Jess. – _If only y’d said that up by the lake, before things got complicated. -_  Then Jess had just been looking for physical pleasure, for some fun and release without any special feelings. But now he was standing only feet away from dead body of the last man who had called him ‘friend’, the last one to buy him a drink before treachery plunged him into pain and darkness. The man he had been forced to kill.

– _Said right from the start, friendship is nothin’ but risk and trouble! –_ All Jess felt capable of doing was moving on, not opening himself to the inevitability of frustration with maybe a side-helping of more misery.

“Remember what Jonesy said, for medical purposes only.” He slapped Slim lightly on the arm, a last touch to carry with him on the solitude of the trail and to savour as one of the memories of what might have been if the cards had fallen differently. Jess walked away to where he had left Traveller. He did not look back to see if Slim was looking after him.

As his mount carried him steadily away, Jess Harper found his departure had not solved anything and he was still wrestling with his thoughts and feelings. He knew full well Pete wasn’t worth mourning, especially if he had been prepared to hitch up with a rat like Carlin. But, professional gunfighter though he was, Jess never, ever, killed gratuitously nor without regard for the way a life with all its potential had been snuffed out. And when you had lived and worked and laughed and got drunk with someone, it was worse, much worse.

\- _Guess this is where I get t’ deal the Ace of Spades once too often. -_ In the aftermath of gun-battle at Baxter’s Ridge, Jess could not have gone into a bar with Slim and drunk with him, however much he wanted to. And he did want to!

How had he changed his mind from seeing this man as dictatorial and arrogant, to appreciating his honesty, his sense of responsibility and his trustworthiness? Because you couldn’t look him in the eyes and not see those qualities bright and clear. It was when they’d made eye contact and formed a silent pact to oppose Carlin’s schemes that Jess had begun to see the real Slim Sherman. Slim’s tension and aggressiveness, Jess now realised, had sprung from his worry over looking after Andy and, no doubt, from the strain of trying to run the ranch more or less single-handed. And, with all his responsibilities, Slim had still been willing to risk himself in the cause of justice. Jess knew now he had thoroughly misjudged the man he had both condemned and been lusting over despite himself.

\- _Yeah, he may be my type, but I ain’t got anything much to offer him, not the reputation nor the kind of skill he’d want or need for runnin’ a family ranch and a kid brother. –_

Jess was so deep in his thoughts that the pursuing horseman was almost upon him before he realised what was happening.

“You’re a hard man to catch up with,” Slim declared as they halted together.

\- _Only when I don’t wanna be caught! -_

“I wanna make the next town before dark.”  – _Actually, I don’t but any place is as good as another_. -

“Could use an extra hand around here. Wouldn’t pay much –”

\- _An offer of work. The chance to stay somewhere for a while. The relief of knowin’ where y’ next meal’s comin’ from_. –

It sounded very attractive, put like that, especially with an attractive boss into the bargain. Yet strangely, this very attraction served to make Jess turn the offer down. He couldn’t face temptation every day when all that was on offer was friendship. He knew he was being stupid, stubborn as only a self-sufficient Texan could be.

 – _And bein’ on the drift is bein’ free to make y’ own choices. … So why’s this one so hard?_ -

“I like bein’ my own boss.”

It was as if Slim had not heard him. His eyes were on the broad sweep of the land surrounding them. He too was a man with a dream in his eyes. “There’s a real future here. Finest cow country in Wyoming. What d’you say? This could lead to something.”

“Yeah. It sure could. Trouble!”

– _No doubt about it. Trouble’s m’ middle name. And that’s why I keep movin’ on_. -

“Why don’t we take that chance?"

It was that tone of confident command again, hitting Jess intimately where he was most sensitive. As he hesitated, Slim urged his horse into a gallop and Traveller, without any regard for his rider’s feelings, pelted after him. It didn’t take long to catch up the lead pair and then they rode stride for stride together, like an omen of things to come.

Presently they reached the slope behind the barn again. Below, by the corral gate, a disconsolate young figure was pacing back and forth in an agony of restlessness. As the two riders urged their horses down the incline, Andy looked up and gave a great yell of triumph.

“They’re back! Slim’s back and Jess is with him!” 

\- _Maybe. Ridin’ with him. Workin’ with him. Sharin’ responsibility with him. Maybe. But bein’ friends with him? Bein’ more than friends?_ \- Jess watched the eager youngster run enthusiastically into the house to fetch Jonesy. Andy’s simple, innocent response to their arrival caused a swift spasm of pain to etch itself on Jess’s face.

Then they were dismounting and Andy was dealing out hugs all round.

\- _Maybe the cards will fall right for me this time. Maybe this is my lucky hand after all. Maybe I should stop fightin’ and let fate play the cards … for worse … or for better_? -

“All right, deal me in. We’ll stake a hand or two and see how it works out.”

Jess’s bright blue eyes met Slim’s light ones one final time. In both there was hope … trust … warmth … promise. A promise for the next stage on the journey – together.

  

* * *

 

This story follows the episode _Stage Stop_ very closely and it is acknowledged that much of the detail of dialogue and action is drawn from it.

 


End file.
